


Forget-Me-Not

by Tasukigirl



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Angst with a Happy Ending, Curses, M/M, Post-Canon Fix-It, Weddings, kosmo is a good boy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:14:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21795913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tasukigirl/pseuds/Tasukigirl
Summary: Shiro has lived a quiet life after the war. He manages to put his life as a soldier behind him in return for married bliss. But when his dreams are suddenly haunted by someone he loved, someone he can't seem to remember, Shiro must confront an ugly past in search of answers.
Relationships: Curtis/Shiro (Voltron), Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 41
Collections: Sheith Reverse Big Bang 2019





	1. The Ambassador to New Altea

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution to the Sheith Reverse Big Bang 2019! I have never written a Voltron fic before but decided to give it a go and worked with the lovely @witch_kitten. The prompt was inspired by her art which you can find [here](https://twitter.com/witch_kitten/status/1206275544221806592)
> 
> This story deviates from the main canon but has a lot of similarities. The big ones being that Allura is still alive, Altea was not destroyed but rebuilt and Shiro never died or was cloned. The story begins with Shiro being married to Curtis, but he will quickly leave the picture. I'll stop there for now and let the story unfold.

_The ghost of our old love has not gone away._

_Don’t look like it will anytime soon._

_~Bob Dylan_

**~**

**Forget-Me-Not**

**~**

Shiro marvels that facing death could feel less terrifying than presenting a ring. He holds the small piece of metal in the palm of his hand and watches the stone sparkle in the shifting light. A slender hand reaches for him, warm palm pressing flat over his racing heart. 

“Save it for me. And when we get back…” 

Shiro’s palm closes on the ring. He pulls a warm body against him, wrapping both arms around a slender torso and rests his chin on the top of his partner’s head. 

“I promise,” Shiro says. “Nothing can keep me from coming home to you.”

Shiro feels himself pulled into a tighter hug. A dread tugs at his heart and he squeezes his fist until the metal digs painfully into his palm. 

“I promise,” he says again.

He opens his eyes and feels the teardrop slip down his cheek. He blinks a few times, shaking off the dream and realizes the tears are real. He releases his fist expecting the warm metal to still be there but feels the smooth band of his wedding ring instead. 

A light flares and Shiro grimaces. His vision adjusts to see Curtis’ furrowed brow pointed in his direction. “Is it the nightmare again?” he asks.

Shiro shakes his head and hastily scrubs away the tears with the back of his hand. “It was. . . different this time. I,” Shiro pauses and presses his lips firmly together. Shiro licks his lips and tries again. “I was proposing to someone I love,” he pauses. “Loved,” he amends.

Even now he feels the phantom weight of their embrace. 

Curtis’ hand on his shoulder startles him. He tries to calm the sudden spike in his pulse. Shiro smiles at his husband but they can both tell it’s not sincere. “It wasn’t a bad dream, I just,” Shiro pauses again. He feels unsettled. The ring in his palm had seemed so real. It had felt familiar, like he had seen it before. “I need to check something,” Shiro says. 

He rises from the bed and walks over to the closet, digging through the top shelf. He pushes onto his toes and strains to reach the box of memories he could never place. 

“Shiro, what’s wrong?” 

Shadows flicker against the wall, the orange glow growing brighter as his husband approaches. Shiro lowers the box and rubs his hand over the dusty top. There’s a symbol carved on the top that he no longer remembers. It nags at him, just like the voice in his dream. He lifts the lid and pushes his military medals aside.

“Shiro?” Curtis lifts the light and glances down at the box. Shiro’s fingers grope the corners, the pads of his fingers feeling for the delicate metal. He stiffens when he brushes a small, hard stone. “You’re starting to worry me,” Curtis huffs a laugh. Shiro smiles sympathetically even as he clasps the ring and lifts it enough that a purple gem catches the light. Shiro shudders and drops the ring like he has been stung.

“I need to speak to Allura.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Shiro.” A laugh is muffled against his shoulder. “How many times are you going to ask me?”

Shiro lifts the hand entangled with his own and kisses the knuckle just above the ring he slipped on earlier.

“As many as it takes,” he grins. 

He feels the responding puff of warm air against his ear. His eyes are closed, nose pressed into the curve between shoulder and neck and clings to the body in his arms for fear they will slip away again.

“And I’ll count the days until Atlas brings you home.”

Shiro opens his eyes to the dream fading against his bedroom ceiling. He turns his head, noticing this metal hand fisted in the sheets where his husband once slept. 

Ex-husband.

Shiro relaxes his fingers. He glances at the window and notes the sliver of pre dawn light slipping through the curtains. Exhaustion still tugs at him but he knows that as soon as he closes his eyes, his mind will simply turn over his dream. He tries to cling to the details but even now they grow fuzzy like the others.

Shiro’s fingers the slender metal chain around his neck. His thumb slides along the fine links and pauses when he reaches the ring he struggles to remember.

“Who are you?” he whispers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shiro fiddles with the ascot as his throat one more time. He feels like he can hardly breathe in the tight, stuffy attire required of the Altean ambassador. Coran’s doing, most likely. His metal fingers feel clumsy against the small pin holding everything in place. He shifts it again, turning his head in the mirror to check both sides. His hair is neatly tied back in a ponytail, held together with ribbon that feels like it will come undone at any moment. He tries to ignore it and shove down the fluttery feeling in his stomach, but it’s not every day he gets to meet the famed Black Paladin of Voltron.

A knock sounds briefly at the door before opening. Matt’s shaggy blonde hair appears. “Your bags have been placed in the transport. Ready to go when you are.” His gaze slides down Shiro and back up again. He stifles a snort but only barely. “Is that what Coran sent you to wear?”

“Please Matt, not now,” Shiro says. “I’m nervous enough as is. You know I haven’t been in the public eye since…” Shiro’s words falter. 

“Since your wedding,” Matt finishes for him. “Sorry. How are you holding up?”

Shiro shakes his head. “That’s a much longer story than I think we have time for at the moment. Good thing we have a long trip ahead of us.”

Matt pulls open the door even wider and holds it open for Shiro. “Keith is here. That’s why I ran up to grab you.” Shiro stares blankly, waiting for more information and watches Matt wince at his own words. “I mean, the Black Paladin has arrived. He’s waiting for you outside.”

Shiro’s heart beats a little faster. “Oh, you should have said so.”

“You really don’t remember him, huh?” Matt follows Shiro out the door and into the common area. “He was at your wedding.”

Shiro shakes his head. “Strange, I don’t remember that,” he frowns. “But I remember meeting the other paladins. And there’s Katie, of course.”

Shiro is jostled from his thoughts as Matt pushes him out the front door. A small gathering is assembled on his lawn holding cameras and recorders. Shiro smiles at them, waving at the group and stops short in front of a young man with raven black hair and the most piercing amethyst eyes Shiro has ever seen. He is dressed in the same style of clothing as Shiro. The tight, form fitting jacket hugs broad shoulders and tapers down to his slender waist. He looks like a lord straight out of a fantasy novel and Shiro feels tongue tied simply looking at him. 

Matt nudges him discreetly.

Shiro forces his eyes up and walks forward to meet the famed paladin. He offers his hand in greeting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

Shiro notes the brief flash of disappointment in the paladin’s expression. It’s gone fast enough that Shiro wonders if he missed some formal protocol or did something to offend the other man. 

“Keith,” the paladin grips his hand firmly. Shiro notices the fingerless black glove that seems to clash with the rest of the outfit.

“Shiro,” he replies. 

Keith holds onto his hand long enough to make Shiro feel uncomfortable but then he clears his throat and nods in the direction of the reporters and Shiro feels the heat rising to his cheeks. Shiro turns to face the reporters and beams at them, despite the heat creeping along his neck. After a few snaps Shiro’s hand is suddenly released. 

“Follow me,” Keith says, already turning and marching in the direction of a vehicle parked further down the road. Matt and Shiro rush a few steps to catch up with him. 

“We aren’t going to chat with the press?” Shiro asks. 

“Allura tasked me with delivering you as soon as possible.”

Shiro skips a few steps to keep up with Keith while Matt speed walks right beside him. 

“Dad is prepping everything at the Garrison so Allura can transport us through as soon as we arrive. Pidge and Hunk wanted to greet you but they left a few days ago for New-Altea to help Allura. ”

Shiro’s steps falter a little. “The paladins of Voltron assembled just for me? Isn’t that a bit much?”

Keith glances at him over his shoulder. His steps slow down a little as he and Matt exchange looks. “Allura’s orders,” he says.

Shiro raises an eyebrow at Matt but he only shrugs in a way that suggests there will be no additional explanations. Shiro lets it slide as they reach the transport, a large four wheeled car that looks Garrison standard issue. Keith slides into the driver's seat while Matt climbs into the back. Shiro reluctantly climbs into the front passenger seat.

They take off with more haste than Shiro anticipates and he clasps the handle on the inside of the door. Shiro takes a deep breath as he watches his quiet neighborhood disappear. The gravity of his decision weighs on him and he feels a sudden wave of anxiety when he realizes he is on his way to New Altea. 

His hand touches at his throat where the chain is settled underneath his fancy clothes. The ring is warm against his chest and if he presses down he can feel the smooth edges dig into his skin. 

“How are you feeling?” Keith’s voice rumbles beside him. He shoots furtive glances in Shiro’s direction before focusing on the road. 

Shiro catches those violet eyes again and wonders how he could forget such a guest at his wedding. It strikes him as odd that he should remember all of the other paladins but not their leader. He suddenly feels a little light headed and he closes his eyes to try to steady himself. 

“I must be exhausted from the lack of sleep lately.” 

Matt leans forward, his face peering over the back of his chair. “I packed some supplements to help knock you out if that’s what you need.”

Shiro shakes his head. “I don’t have problems falling asleep. It’s staying asleep that’s the issue. Do you ever,” Shiro pauses, glancing at Keith uneasily. “Have you ever felt haunted by a dream?”

Matt hums. “I did… right after the war. There are just some things you don’t put behind you. Are the nightmares still bothering you?”

Shiro shakes his head and touches his left ring finger to calm himself. “Not exactly, no.” Shiro sneaks a look at Keith and suddenly feels self conscious. “I’m not quite sure how to explain this,” he begins, trying to ignore the second blush threatening him today, “but I keep dreaming about a lover who isn’t my husband.” 

The car turns sharply and Matt falls heavily against the seat. 

Everyone is silent for a moment as Shiro gapes at Keith. The Black Paladin faces forward, eyes still on the road. 

“Almost missed the turn,” he says. “ETA ten minutes.”

“Right,” Matt replies, pulling out his datapad. “I’ll inform the Garrison.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mrs. Holt hugs Shiro with more warmth than he believes he deserves but then Mr. Holt joins them and Shiro wonders if maybe they weren’t so mad at him for not calling after all.

Their friendly faces help distract him from the unexpectedly large crowd greeting him just inside the grounds. There are faces he vaguely remembers from his time during the war but it’s difficult to focus. They all look at him with a type of awe he doesn’t quite understand and he hears one young recruit whisper “Atlas,” with a sense of wonder before being sharply elbowed by her peer. 

Shiro skims over their faces and notices Curtis is not among them. He feels an ache in his chest that climbs its way up his throat, but he manages to keep it together as he shakes hands with Iverson. 

“Ambassador,” Iverson greets him with a warm smile. “Safe travels.”

Shiro is struck with the weirdest sense of  déjà vu . “Thank you, sir.” He’s at a loss for what else to say but thankfully Matt whisks him away and up to the ship that will take him up to the stars.

“Are you ready for this?” Matt asks. His hand stays on Shiro’s elbow, grounding him against the sudden nerves. Shiro opens his mouth but nothing comes out. Matt’s grip tightens. “Keith is the best pilot in the galaxy. He will get you there safely.” 

Shiro’s legs still tremble as he walks onto the ship. He shudders as soon as he is inside and has to pause to focus on breathing. Matt holds onto him as Shiro closes his eyes and takes his time going through his breathing exercises. When he feels steady enough he places a hand on Matt’s.

“I’m okay now, thanks. I’ve learned how to push through this part.”

Matt holds onto him anyways. Shiro glances up and notices the Black Paladin watching him with a furrowed brow. 

“Fear of flying,” Shiro tries to explain. “But I’ve managed a little progress lately thanks to Matt,” he smiles.

The paladin exchanges looks with Matt again. Shiro can’t understand what’s being communicated, but refrains from commenting. 

“Matt mentioned he started helping you with flying lessons,” the paladin says carefully. 

Shiro nods. “He rigged up a simpler version of the basic training sim. I haven’t quite made it up to the real thing, but baby steps,” Shiro shrugs. His legs feel steadier and he stands a little straighter when the paladin smiles. Something about his presence helps Shiro relax a little. “I know we just met, and that this mission is probably boring for you.” He rubs the back of his neck. “But it’s a real comfort knowing you’ll be at the wheel.”

Keith’s expression relaxes into a smile so tender Shiro feels self-conscious under that gaze. He averts his eyes to look at Matt, but only finds an amused smirk aimed at his general direction. 

Shiro clears his throat. “Um, I think I’m ready if you are.” 

“Right,” Matt smiles. He hands Shiro a vial of liquid that will help knock him out. 

Shiro slides into his seat and begins buckling. He tugs extra hard on the straps to make sure. Matt hands him a familiar looking headset and Shiro begins fiddling with the settings. A blue light begins blinking as the system boots up. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shiro is flying. The wind rushes against his face, his body lifting off the physical seat below him while a pair of arms clamp tight around his middle to anchor him down. 

He is flying and laughing. He feels the sound bubble out of him, turning into a gasp when the arms around him cling a little too tight. 

He squeezes the handles of his bike, feels the engine reverberating against his thighs and tugs up in time for the nose of the bike to swing up and away from the ground. The added weight nearly drags them down but he just manages. His body slams back down onto his seat, straining to keep himself upright against gravity. 

“And they call me reckless,” a deep voice shouts against the wind.

“It’s not reckless when you’ve got skill,” Shiro grins. He slows the bike and turns his head to glance over his shoulder. Suddenly the weight is gone and Shiro is alone. He looks around and finds that he is in the middle of nowhere. Large canyon walls throw long shadows across the dry earth while an orange sun dips lower along the horizon.

“I wish you were here,” he says to himself.

Consciousness tugs at him and Shiro becomes aware of the warmth of the fading sun wrapped around him but also a weight pinning him down. He opens his eyes and his blurred vision focuses until he sees the VR generated program Matt cooked up for the voyage. The quiet room before him does not explain why he feels buried under weighted blankets. He manages to wiggle out his prosthetic arm and pulls off the headset. 

A pair of gold eyes greet him. A wet nose pushes into his cheek and Shiro grunts when a tongue slobbers up the side of his face. Shiro’s hands come up and push against thick fur. The wolf’s weight shifts in his lap and then the entire world tips sideways.

Shiro grunts when he falls and the back of his head collides with the floor. It’s like his chair has vanished entirely but then he looks around and realizes he is no longer in the passenger cabin. The wolf tilts his head and stares until Shiro realizes his fingers have gripped the wolf’s fur tight in his prosthetic hand and he releases the animal quickly.

The Black Paladin’s head whips around.

“Kosmo I told you not to…” he pauses, eyes growing wide at the sight. He taps a series of buttons quickly. “Initiate autopilot.” 

He jumps from his seat and shoulders the wolf gently to the side. “Are you okay?” A slender hand grips Shiro’s arm by the wrist and tugs him up. Shiro is startled by the strength and speed with which he finds himself dragged back up to his feet.

“Um yeah, I um.” Shiro pauses and wipes the side of his face. “Where am I?”

The Black Paladin takes a step back and gestures with a nod of his head. “The cockpit. I told Kosmo to inform me when you woke up. Guess he decided to bring you directly.”

Shiro glances at the pilot console and looks up, taking in a deep breath at the sight of millions of stars twinkling in space. He feels a sudden rush of dizziness and the grip on his wrist tightens, keeping him upright.

“Are you okay?”

He allows the other man to guide him to the co-pilot chair and drops into the cushioned seat like a dead weight. 

“There’s nothing like being reminded you’re in a tin can hurtling through space,” Shiro huffs a laugh. He avoids looking out the window while he takes a deep breath to ground himself. He notices his own fingers still curled around the other man’s arm.

“Take your time,” the paladin responds. His fingers are still curled around Shiro’s arm, thumb rubbing his sleeve gently. It’s soothing in a way that Shiro doesn’t expect and when he looks up into the other man’s face he notices the furrowed brow and the slight tug at the corner of his mouth. Shiro wonders how he could possibly forget meeting someone this kind. But he also remembers that this is the famed paladin of Voltron and of course the paladins would be wonderful. “Do you need anything?” The paladin’s voice cuts through Shiro’s thoughts. “I can call Matt and have him reset the headset or have him escort you away from the deck.”

“How long until we reach New Altea?” Shiro asks. 

“We’re practically there. We’ve begun security protocols. In earth time, we should be landing within the next half hour.”

Shiro slides his hand away reluctantly and clings instead to the arm rest. “Okay,” he nods more to himself than anything. “I think I can survive that long.”

Shiro stares straight ahead at the wide window and takes in the view. He feels his pulse leaping against his throat and concentrates on breathing. 

“If it helps, we’ll land in the private hangar. No reporters, no public fanfare.”

Shiro breathes so heavily it’s audible on the quiet deck. His eyes settle on the material items in the ship instead of the great expanse outside. He recognizes some of the controls. Some of them seem Altean but for some reason, it tickles a memory he can’t quite place.

The pilot slides back into his seat. He shoots another concerned look at Shiro before his expression relaxes. 

Shiro loses the rhythm behind his breathing. He’s struck with the oddest sense of  déjà vu . Once is odd enough but twice in the same day makes him pause. Shiro frowns to himself trying to recall if this was ever in his dreams. 

“This might sound crazy,” Shiro pauses. He glances at the control panel and the wolf and then back to the pilot. “But have we done this before?”

“This?” the pilot asks. 

Shiro leans back even further into the chair. He forces himself to look forward out the front window.

“Flown together. Or been in some type of craft together. I don’t know, sometimes my memories are patchy at best and Matt already told me you were at my wedding and for some bizarre reason I can’t remember you.”

Shiro rubs his temple gently. He feels a low throbbing that he knows will escalate until he has no choice but to sleep it off. 

“Are you okay?” 

Shiro digs the pads of his fingers harder into his scalp. He closes his eyes and contemplates how to answer that. 

“My fear of flying tends to manifest in physically painful ways. The more I push, the worse it gets. That’s why,” Shiro pauses and closes his eyes against a particularly sharp throb.

“Why you chose to sleep.”

Shiro murmurs his assent. He turns his head to the side to look his companion in the eye and feels like he might be dreaming again. A soft blue light illuminates the pilot deck and the lights shine in the paladins eyes. 

“Hang in there Shiro. Allura will know what to do. Security should clear us soon.”

Shiro squeezes his eyes tight against the throbbing in his head. The paladin’s voice is gentle even as he speaks across the comms as though he is afraid to disturb Shiro with too much noise. Shiro listens but only catchest pieces of the conversation about coordinates, hangar numbers and landing protocols. The pilot’s calm demeanor is like a balm to Shiro’s anxious state. He is going to be okay he repeats to himself quietly. He just has to let the anxiety pass.

The next minutes are disorienting. He feels overstimulated, like everything is too much. Light hurts his eyes, sounds make the pounding in his head too much. He squeezes his eyes tight and covers his ears, pressing himself into the back of the chair. His world narrows to the pounding in his skull throbbing with each heartbeat. He wills himself to sleep but the pain won’t let him. 

And then the nausea begins. He focuses on his breathing again, trying not to move and make it worse. He wavers between feeling like he will be okay and wanting to throw up to get it over with. He doesn’t know how long it lasts only that it feels like too long. And then gradually, his stomach settles. His head still throbs but the sharp edge slowly fades. He feels a gloved hand press against his forehead.

“No fever, but he looks bad.”

“Keep him calm, Keith. I’m on my way.”

A woman’s voice, Shiro registers. Allura’s voice.

“Where does it hurt, Shiro?” the man asks. Shiro whimpers slightly at the pain in his head. He feels fingers brushing through his hair, snagging on the ribbon. He feels the ribbon loosen and fingers comb through his hair. That same touch wanders back to his scalp and Shiro’s breathing hitches when the pressure reaches a particularly painful spot. The touch halts then moves again, rubbing circles against his scalp. Shiro sighs in relief and his shoulders relax as the tension slowly drains out of him. “You’re safe Shiro, I got you.” 

The thumbs press in a firm arc from his temples and across his scalp, down to his neck. Those deft hands then move to his forehead just above his eyebrows and then across the scar on his nose. Warm hands cup his face, leather gloves surprisingly soft against his skin while thumbs apply pressure to his sinuses.

“It’s in my temples” Shiro says and nearly groans when the palms slide upward into his hair. He opens his eyes slowly and feels warmth flood his cheeks when he realizes how close they are. This close he can see long dark eyelashes that fan in a natural curl. He notices the scar alongside one cheek half-hidden behind chin length black hair. The paladin’s eyebrows lift slightly when he notices Shiro looking. There’s a question that Shiro feels too self-conscious to answer.

Instead he closes his eyes again and concentrates on mapping the areas that still hurt. He still feels his pulse throbbing in his head but the edge is gone. It feels almost bearable.

“I hope Allura pays you well for this,” Shiro says. He peeks one eye open and catches a lopsided smile. 

The hands pause and slowly fall away. One of them brushes through his hair a few more times, but there is nothing to be done about the ribbon. 

“You must be feeling better if you can crack jokes.”

Shiro relaxes into the chair and smiles. “I’m going to have a headache for the next few hours at least, but it’s a level I can tolerate.

“That’s a relief. I’m not sure Kosmo would have listened if I asked him to transport you to Allura directly.”

They both smile at each other just as the cabin door opens. Coran practically tumbles into the room, carting a healing pod behind him. Allura’s pinched face appears behind the contraption, pushing it forward until Coran can maneuver the bulky equipment to one side. 

“Shiro!” her face alights with joy. The Black Paladin steps aside to allow Allura to approach and she immediately pulls him into a hug. Shiro buries his nose into her shoulder while his arms slide around her slender shoulders. She smells like juniberry flowers and vanilla. Her thin arms manage to hold him in quite the grip and then just as quickly she’s pushing him away and scrutinizing him closely. 

“Shiro please enter the healing pod. You must be terribly uncomfortable.”

Shiro smiles at her, his left hand settling gently over the hand on his right shoulder. He gives her hand a slight squeeze. “It’s good to see you too. Your pilot, um,” Shiro pauses and tries to remember the name of the Black Paladin. He knows it, it’s on the tip of his tongue but the more he tries to concentrate, the more slippery the name feels. 

Shiro frowns and shakes his head to himself. “Sorry, what was your name again?”

“Keith,” Allura addresses the paladin, “how long was his episode?”

“Keith,” Shiro mouths to himself. He repeats the name in his head over and over. He berates himself internally for forgetting so quickly. 

Keith clears his throat. “Half a varga, give or take. He was okay just after waking and then expressed physical discomfort that quickly escalated into distress. He calmed down upon landing.”

Allura crosses her arms over her chest, one finger tapping against her chin. “Coran, input parameters for scenario two. And Shiro,” Allura extends one hand to him, helping him to his feet, “please get in. I promise you will feel much better when we’re done.”

Shiro hasn’t seen a healing pod since his days immediately after the war and he feels anxiety welling up inside him. Keith takes his other hand while Allura holds the other and the two of them guide him until he is turning to face them and slowly leaning back into the pod. He feels clumsy trying to scoot his way into position. 

“Relax Shiro,” Allura smiles at him. “I’m running a few tests and giving you something to ease the headache. You’ll be out in time for dinner!”

Shiro settles into the cushion beneath him, feeling it mold to his body to support him. A blue shield materializes in front of him. 

There is a fairy tale like this, Shiro thinks idly. About a princess in a glass coffin. He wonders if this is how she felt while three faces peer at the panel on the side now doling out his readings. 

Blue light fills the chamber and Shiro feels the effects immediately. The stress of his voyage slowly melts away and the throbbing in his head ebbs and flows with less severity. Shiro sighs with real relief. The pod begins moving as everyone exits the cockpit. Allura is asking Keith questions. He can tell by the furrow of her brow, the rapid movement of her lips and the subtle nods and replies in return. There seems to be a fairly serious discussion. Allura places her hand gently on the Black Paladin’s shoulder. Her hand lingers there and he replies with a solemn nod. He wants to keep watching, to try to understand why Keith looks so sad, but their faces turn as they walk ahead. 

Shiro turns his attention to the world outside his pod instead. They exit the ship into a hangar with only a basic crew on the ground. They all pause and turn to stare at their small party. One of them is close enough for Shiro to note the open mouthed stare in his direction. But they waste no time entering the castle and Shiro loses track of where he is after a few turns and a few long hallways that all look the same. 

They stop in what looks like a medical bay. Allura is monitoring his vitals again, her eyes narrow in concentration and her month presses in a firm line. Her pale brows lift in sudden surprise. She pulls out a separate data pad and begins typing furiously. 

Shiro hears Allura clear her throat.

“Shiro, how do you feel?” she asks.

Shiro pauses to take stock of himself and realizes the headache is completely gone. “I feel. . . completely fine,” he admits.

Allura’s expression relaxes into a genuine smile. The healing pod paints everything outside in a blue light and the gem in her diadem glows unnaturally bright. 

“I’ve sent everyone away. It’s just you and me here. If you’re not opposed, I would like to ask you some questions about the reason for your visit. You seemed quite distressed in your last message. ”

Shiro’s thoughts wander back to the ring still hanging on a thin chain around his neck. He wants to pull it out for her to see, but the healing pod does not allow him to move his arms beyond a little wiggling at his sides. He is quiet as he considers where to begin. 

“You know about the dreams,” he starts. Allura’s face is peering at him closely through the screen. Close enough that he can see the nod of her head. 

“You would often dream of your time in the war. Are those the dreams distressing you?”

Shiro shakes his head. “No, I’ve had new ones recently. They feel so real to me and then when I wake up I struggle to remember the details.” 

“Try,” Allura suggests. “Don’t tell me but try to replay those images in your head.”

Shiro takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He focuses on the most recent dream. A sunset over a desert. The orange and yellow light diffusing over a wide open canyon and the shadow of rock formations in the distance. He had been falling. No, flying. He was piloting a bike. Alone? He imagined a weight, or warmth at his back but could conjure the image no further. Someone had laughed. In fact there always seemed to be laughter. And the warmth of someone who always fit just under his chin. It was the one reason he knew it couldn’t be his husband. Ex-husband, Shiro reminds himself. He still couldn’t see the face of this mystery lover but he could still feel the weight of a palm in his hand, the soft strands of hair between his fingers and the warmth of their skin.

“Shiro,” Allura’s voice cuts through his thoughts. “I have enough data to analyze for now, but I will need your help running more tests. I’m going to release you from the pod now.

Allura starts tapping on the side console and with one very deliberate tap of her finger, the blue shield falls. 

Allura doesn’t give him time before she is pulling him into another tight hug. “How dare you not visit me sooner?” she teases. She steps back and grimaces when she notices the black fur now clinging to her previously pristine white dress. “And what is this?”

Shiro laughs and looks down at himself, noting a light dusting of black fur over his own uniform. “Courtesy of Kosmo, I believe.”

“Yes, he missed you too it seems.” Allura slides her arm into the crook of Shiro’s elbow. “I’ll show you to your room so you can change. This was to give Earth a little bit of a show, but any appearance as ambassador here on New Altea has been postponed until I have decided I can let you run around without worrying.”

She leads him down a long corridor with high white walls illuminated by glowing crystals. It looks like pictures he remembers of the original Castle of Lions but these look brighter, like white stone. Shiro looks around in awe. She steers him carefully beyond a couple of guards that stand outside two wide doors but continues past them into another corridor with lower ceilings but no less impressive architecture. 

“This is the guest wing, reserved for high level guests and diplomats. The doors we passed lead to the receiving room. Currently you and the other paladins are the only guests. For  _ now _ .”

She leads him to a door that has a symbol etched over the side panel that seems familiar. She takes Shiro’s hand and presses it against the scanner. The door slides open and Shiro is ushered into a large room with a king sized bed and gauzy curtains hanging on either end. A dresser and vanity are to one side and his things have been placed in the center of the room. 

“You’ve had a long journey,” she says. “Please rest. Keith will escort you when it’s time for dinner. I don’t want to push you too hard so any additional tests can wait until tomorrow.”

Shiro gives her one more hug. “Thanks Allura.”

She smiles at him and looks back over her shoulder one more time before the door slides shut behind her. 

Shiro takes another look around the room and shakes his head. It’s more space than he knows what to do with. He pokes around and finds the bathroom, earth amenities already provided. He checks out the vanity and finds a bowl of mixed fruit and a pitcher of water. A small note accompanies it. 

It’s good to have you back. - Hunk

Shiro pours himself a glass and continues to the last door he finds, expecting it to be a closet. Instead, he opens a door to an outdoor balcony that overlooks the city of New Altea. It’s the last thing he expects and he wonders if this is how Alice felt once through the looking glass. The sight of two moons hanging in the sky makes it real to him. He did it, he made it. He hasn’t been this far away from home since the war.

He hears grunts and heavy breathing and the sounds of physical exertion and he wanders further out. On the balcony next to his he finds Keith dressed down in a black t-shirt and leggings and wielding a sword. He looks strikingly young and so human that Shiro is awed by the cat-like grace with which he moves. His strikes aren’t heavy but so fast, Shiro imagines he would be formidable on the battlefield. He leaps and twirls in patterns Shiro can’t predict and he leans on his banister captivated by his neighbor. 

Keith notices his audience and pauses. He pants heavily, his free hand wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Shiro stands up quickly. He’s suddenly aware that he’s still overdressed in the white stuffy outfit covered in wolf fur. 

Keith waves off his concern. “It’s fine, how do you feel?” He walks over to the end of the balcony closest to Shiro. The sword in his hand glows purple and transforms into a knife. Shiro blinks back his surprise. 

“Blades of Marmora huh?” Shiro whistles. “Impressive.”

Keith laughs and it’s a much nicer sound that Shiro expects. “Impressive huh? That’s too weird coming from you.”

Shiro gapes. “You don’t think that you, Blade of Marmora, Black Paladin of Voltron and war hero are impressive? I was honestly a little intimidated to meet you this morning.” Shiro feels sheepish at that last admission.

Keith only covers his face with one hand while his shoulders shake with laughter. “Please don’t let Lance ever hear you say that.” 

“It’s still unreal that all of you are here.”

Keith’s laughter dies down, his face suddenly somber. “Because we miss you Shiro. And hopefully Allura can help you remember why.”

“Oh,” Shiro takes a step back. He thinks about Matt’s words again, that Keith was at his wedding. It wasn’t an overly public wedding. It wouldn’t make sense to invite strangers.

Keith curses under his breath, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. You just got here and I’ve already upset you.” 

Shiro shakes his head. “No, it’s not that. I’m just… confused. I can’t remember you and yet I feel at ease.” Shiro bites his bottom lip as he thinks about how odd it is he should trust Keith right off the bat. “I feel like I know you.”

Keith’s smile is bittersweet. “You still can, Shiro. I’m not going anywhere.” There’s an intensity in Keith’s gaze that makes Shiro squirm. He’s acutely aware of the fact that he’s not wearing his wedding ring and the mere fact that thought crosses his mind fills Shiro with hot shame He looks away first and hopes the warm flush spreading across his cheeks isn’t visibly noticeable. 

“Right, I’ll be the ambassador for some time.” Shiro clears his throat. “Speaking of which, Allura mentioned dinner?” 

“Ah,” Keith steps away from the balcony. “I better clean up. I’ll knock on your door when it’s time.” 

And just like that, the mood dissipates. It happens so quickly Shiro wonders if he misinterpreted entirely. Keith turns and walks toward his door, waving at Shiro without looking back. Shiro watches quietly and as soon as Keith is back inside, he expels his nervous energy with one big sigh. 

“Focus on the mission, Shiro,” he tells himself, finger tracing the ring under the fabric of his shirt. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shiro opens the door to find Keith dressed up again in a tailored military jacket. Shiro is surprised to see him in the white and red uniform of the red paladin. Gold stripes on his shoulders signify his rank while medals are pinned over his heart. Shiro is glad he opted to wear his spare ambassador uniform. 

“Ready?” Keith asks. Shiro nods and without another word, Keith is leading them through the halls to a formal dining room with a table that is only half full. Allura sits at the head of the table, dressed in her military jacket detailed in pink. The Blue Paladin sits to her left. Katie, who is seated next to him, waves when they arrive. Matt is seated next to her already munching on the appetizer set out in the middle of the table.

Shiro takes the empty seat at Allura’s other side and Keith slides into the seat beside him. 

“Hunk has been toiling away in the kitchen since you arrived. He was adamant that he prepared this meal personally,” Allura beams. 

“That’s quite the honor,” Shiro admits. Hunk is more famous these days for his cooking than his days piloting Voltron and his few pop-ups are always sold out in seconds. 

“Coran is prepping drinks,” Katie informs him, “so definitely avoid them.”

Allura stifles a giggle behind her palm. 

“How was the trip, Shiro?” the Blue Paladin asks. Shiro searches his memory for the young man’s name, knowing he had read it in his brief. 

“Lance,” Keith whispers to him. “The  _ current  _ ambassador to New Altea.”

“Ah,” Shiro gives Keith a nod in thanks. He shifts his attention to Lance and gives him his brightest smile. “Mainly uneventful, thanks to Matt’s help.”

“I hear Kosmo interrupted your beauty rest,” Matt says lifting an eyebrow. “I went to wake you up for landing and you were gone.”

“Sorry,” Shiro grimaces. 

“Don’t be, just glad you’re okay,” Matt says.

The conversation shifts away from him after that. It’s like they all know not to touch on his episode and they all stick to more friendly topics.

When Coran arrives with a tray of drinks Shiro takes one and only tips the glass enough to smell and not drink. He nearly chokes on the smell alone. Shiro can tell that Keith is grinning at him from behind his cup and Shiro ignores it. Matt looks like he has brain freeze for a second and then shakes it off and takes another sip.

Shiro smiles and puts the glass down, safely away from him. “It’s been a long day,” he tells Coran. “I might need some food in my stomach first.”

And before Coran can object the doors open and Hunk brings out a small feast. 

“Hey guys, thanks for waiting. I know I usually bring courses, but I wanted to sit and join you so we’re doing this family style.” 

He sets platter after platter onto the table. Large dishes are placed in the center while smaller appetizers fan around the main dishes. 

“Hope you’re hungry!” Hunk says. He takes a seat next to Keith and they all pause. They look around the table smiling at one another and Shiro feels like he’s at Thanksgiving dinner. It’s odd, this sudden sense of camaraderie amongst those he felt nervous to meet just hours before.

“It’s good to see you again Shiro,” Hunk says.

“Even if you’re gunning for my job,” Lance says. “Ow,” he rubs his forehead after Katie launches a small piece of food at him.

“We all know you’re not going anywhere Lance.”

Lance turns pink, as does Allura. Her gaze flicks at him and then away. Shiro smiles around the fork in his mouth and doesn’t comment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Allura escorts him back after dinner. Keith remains in the dining room, chatting with the other paladins while Shiro is steered back to his room. When they reach his door she looks behind her shoulder at the quiet hallway. 

“I’d like to speak to you in private, if I may.”

Shiro opens the door and steps out of the way to let her in first. She pauses in the middle of the room, clasping her hands behind her back. 

“Is everything okay?” Shiro asks.

Her gaze looks to his Altean prosthetic before rising to meet his gaze. 

“Shiro, I’ve thought very carefully about the situation you described to me. Your dreams have always had a bit of truth in them. For a long time I believed they were merely a symptom of trauma, a reliving of certain parts of the war that continue to haunt you.”

Shiro nods, thinking of too many nights waking in a cold sweat, of seeing Zarkon’s blade hammering down on him.

“These. . . new dreams,” she tilts her head, “have made me reconsider. Shiro, what do you remember of Haggar’s curse?”

Shiro’s heart beats a little faster.

“She told me I would destroy the people I love.”

Allura nods, walking slow circles in front of him. “You almost did,” she says.

Shiro nods. “My memory is fuzzy. I don’t remember much after we brought Zarkon down, but I remember a sensation like I was helpless, like I was an observer in my own body. I know I turned on my own men.”

Allura nods. 

“I don’t remember that part too well. I know that it happened, that one of my own men cut off my arm, but I can’t really remember anything before I woke up with this.”

Shiro lifts the hand created by Altean tech. 

“You were touch and go,” Allura says. “We thought we lost you at some point. And when we were able to revive you, we were unclear what Haggar did to you, only that you could no longer remember anything you love.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Shiro laughs nervously. “I love my husband,” he states and pauses. 

Allura takes his hand and pats it sympathetically. “But you did not love him before the curse. And considering you remember being the Champion, I would hazard a guess that you’ve never cared much for swords.”

Shiro shakes his head. “I fought out of duty, no more.”

“Shiro, I always thought you lost your memory as a result of the curse, but I fear it’s more complicated than that. Your initial reaction to those you loved was aggression and violence. When we removed your arm it removed whatever was issuing commands but it rewired parts of your brain. Instead of joy, your body experiences physical pain. Like training a pet through negative reinforcement.” 

“The headaches,” Shiro realizes.

“Yes,” Allura confirms. “Shiro, your greatest passion was to fly. And in taking up flying lessons, you are challenging this curse. If I can measure your biological responses while you complete your lessons it might help me unlock a solution.”

Shiro thinks of the dream where he’s flying. It could be a memory, he realizes. And then he remembers the weight, of the faceless man in his dreams and feels a slow dawning horror. “Then the man in my dreams.”

She meets his gaze. “He is real,” she confirms. Shiro leans away from her pulling his hand away and cradles it against his chest. 

“Did Curtis know?” he asks. 

Allura curls a hand around her elbow. “No. Your engagement was quite secret. It was a precaution at the time due to your rank.”

“As the Champion?” Shiro asks.

Allura pauses again. Her forehead wrinkles as she weighs her words carefully. 

“No Shiro.” She reaches out and touches his cheek gently. “As our leader, the Black Paladin of Voltron.”


	2. The Curse

If Shiro dreams, he doesn’t remember it. He wakes up to an early call from Allura, her sunny disposition returned to its usual form as she greets him and instructs him to put on the workout clothes left in his dresser. Shiro complies and when he sees the outline of the ring beneath the t-shirt, he takes it off and places it in a safe spot.

He follows the map uploaded to his datapad and he knows he’s in the right spot when he finds the entire group assembled. Katie is on her laptop, cords hooked up to a strange headset while Keith and Lance seem to be in the middle of a disagreement.

They quiet down at Shiro’s approach.

“Come on in Shiro,” Allura greets him, beckoning to an empty chair besides Katie. “The good news is we have started to analyze the data we collected yesterday. We have no definitive conclusions just yet, but we did spot something interesting that I think will fascinate you. What you experienced yesterday was an anxiety attack. When confronted with flying your body perceives it as danger and resorts to a fight or flight response. It seems your response thus far has been, uh, flight. In a sense.”

“But the headaches,” Shiro frowns.

“Yes,” Allura frowns. “Whatever is causing this severe reaction is somehow also triggering migraines. That’s the mechanism we are trying to pin down. I’m afraid the only way to start looking is to induce an attack.”

“How?” Shiro eyes the headset.

“I want you to continue your flying lessons. We have simulators to train our pilots similar to the one used in the Garrison. Lance and Keith will be your instructors.”

Katie pushes up her glasses and shoots a glare in their general direction. “That’s right, _both_ of them, working together, not arguing over who is more qualified.”

“Oh dear,” Allura tries to hide a grin. “Anyhow, Shiro, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to wear this.” She lifts the headset that looks like a circlet with sensors attached every few inches. She disconnects it from the attached cords and Shiro bends forward to allow her to place it on his head like a crown.

“Shiro, we’re relying on you to communicate when the discomfort becomes too much. We can go as slowly as you like. And if the pain is unbearable, we stop and have a healing pod nearby. This will not be pleasant, but we hope it will be worth it in the end.”

Shiro nods. He’s no stranger to pain and this time he will have support. 

“I’m ready.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They start from the very beginning. Katie has conjured up an old text book and before Shiro even touches a simulator they go over models, controls, protocols and best cases and worst. Everything is textbook and while Keith mainly observes he offers insights and personal experiences that help supplement Shiro’s training. 

In the evenings, Allura or Lance or sometimes Coran take turns teaching him about New Altea and the duties of Earth’s ambassador to their region. Shiro discovers that the appointment is, in fact, real. Shiro is the newly appointed ambassador and thus far they have been careful to keep him from the public. Allura warns him they can push it for maybe a Phoeb, no more. 

Shiro takes his lessons more seriously after that. He takes reading material out onto the balcony in the evenings. There’s something calming about the two moons hanging in the sky. Sometimes he finds his neighbor practicing martial arts on the balcony next to him. Sometimes he too is out there quietly gazing. Sometimes Shiro reads his material to him when he thinks something might get a chuckle. 

At night he dreams, not of faceless men, but flying. Always flying.

Shiro’s first headache begins when he steps into the simulator. It’s mild enough to push through and he goes through simple take offs and landings. The headaches aside, everything feels easy. He starts to go through the motions before Lance can even prompt him to. They keep him on a flight simulator designed to look like New Altea. They keep him away from bad weather or crisis modes until he can run an hour long sim without migraines. Allura tells him to push himself to three. When it becomes too much Shiro asks them to take over but asks to stay in the sim. He tries to be a passenger, like the voyage over. He makes it to two hours.

His work continues with Allura and Lance in the evenings. Sometimes Lance looks so tired Shiro will tell him to rest and continue reading on his own. One night he comes across a name that he recognizes and he finds himself knocking on Keith’s door. “Can you tell me about the Blades?” he asks.

One week melts into the next. Shiro feels like he’s had a crash course in New Altea history, economics and customs. He keeps meticulous notes on all of it. He pushes his way to two and a half hours in the simulator. He badgers Allura until she allows him a stress test and the first one ends in a panic attack so bad Shiro feels like he is dying. Keith’s hands are on his shoulders steadying him, breathing with him. His hands wander up and release Shiro’s hair from its ponytail and begins massaging Shiro’s scalp the way he did on the voyage over. Allura makes him get into the pod for safe measure but even she is satisfied that he is okay once the headache recedes. 

That night Shiro dreams of planes going down. Not his own, but he knows they contain the ones he loves and he screams and cries and then he feels hands on his face, smoothing back his hair. He wraps the other man in his arms and clings to him. “I thought you were gone.”

“Shiro, it’s a dream, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

Shiro opens his eyes and in the dim light the weight over his body is real. The body wrapped tight in his arms, and the nose pressed into his shoulder is real.

“Sorry,” Shiro releases the other man quickly. Keith slides to the side of the bed. 

“I heard yelling,” he explains. 

Shiro runs a hand through his hair. “It’s been awhile since I had one this bad.”

“What can I do?” Keith asks. 

_Stay_ , Shiro thinks. He doesn’t feel like being alone. But he feels like this is too much to ask. Shiro sighs and turns onto his side facing Keith in darkness. 

“Tell me a story,” he asks. “A happy one.”

Keith is quiet for a long moment. He settles onto his side, body curled up to face Shiro though they’re on opposite side of the blankets. 

He’s close enough that Shiro can feel the puff of air when Keith sighs. 

“Did I tell you the story about how I found Kosmo? Or rather, the story of how Kosmo found me?”

“No,” Shiro replies. “But I’m gonna guess it’s not a pet store.” Keith’s soft laughter makes him feel better already.

“Where do I begin?” Keith asks though Shiro has the sense the question is more for himself. And he listens, his heart slowly calming to the sound of Keith’s raspy voice. He tries to keep his voice down almost down to a whisper. Shiro murmurs or gives small grunts so Keith knows he is still listening until his eyes grow heavy. 

When he wakes he is alone again and Shiro is startled by the sense of loss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the start of the third week Allura assembles the whole team for a meeting. They use the official conference room and Katie stands with her at the front with her laptop ready. 

“We have some good news and we have some bad news.”

“Bad news first,” Shiro says.

Katie and Allura exchange looks. Katie pushes her glasses up her nose. “We’ve confirmed that the curse works like a virus, one that has… overwritten some of your brain’s functions.”

“I was right about the fight or flight response,” Allura adds. “Since you can’t attack a plane necessarily it would make sense that you are prompted to flee instead, or rather, be trained to avoid it via the negative reinforcement. It seems to be the one weakness in the design. But at the moment, we have no cure.” 

“That’s, not as bad as I expected.”

Allura looks around the room again, bracing herself with two palms against the table. “That’s not the bad part. Shiro,” she meets his eyes directly. “We can’t be sure that the curse has any effect on your memory.”

“What?” Shiro asks. He notices Keith lean forward, elbows on the table as his hands run over his face.

“Shiro, it’s possible that this part might be psychological. A way to protect yourself or quite possibly, all of us.”

“Then how do we?”

Allura smiles sympathetically. “Here’s where we have some good news. Shiro, none of your memories are actually damaged. I had originally feared that you experienced some sort of deterioration over time, something akin to early dementia. but your brain is quite healthy. In fact, the repetition in flying lessons every day strengthened some of the existing synapses. Like flexing a muscle you haven’t used in awhile.”

“So the knowledge is still here…” Shiro realizes.

Allura nods. “Just needs some practice. By increasing your endurance before the pain is triggered, we are increasing your resistance. I don’t know if the virus is growing weaker because the magic is fading or if your body is learning to fight back. Either way, this is the lead that might help us find a cure.”

“It’s something,” Shiro says and he feels a moment of real hope. 

“I do have one more announcement,” Allura says, her face twisting into slight worry. “We’ve had to officially set a date to introduce you as our ambassador. We’ll be hosting a small gala in ten days. There’s a lot to prepare so let’s get to work.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shiro makes it to three hours in the simulator; two hours piloting and one hour as passenger. Allura allows him a stress test and it’s just as bad as the first one. Keith’s hands are just as swift, trying to ease the pain. 

When Shiro needs a break they stop to discuss theory. Shiro learns about the lightning storms in the desert strong enough to take down an entire aircraft. He learns the proper altitude to maintain when flying over the underground volcano still prone to spitting gas and bursts of hot air. When he recovers, he goes back into the simulator. It becomes a familiar cycle.

When he switches to ambassador duties, Lance starts to teach Shiro all the key players. He has pictures with snarky side notes and funny gimmicks he constructed to help him remember names. Shiro tries his best not to laugh, but finds himself failing often. 

Dinners are still with the group even though Hunk can’t always cook and it becomes a routine. Shiro finds himself falling into the rhythm of being with a team again. It’s startling and exciting and yet he feels a twinge of guilt when he thinks of Curtis back on earth and hopes he isn’t alone.

He gets a message that his divorce has been finalized. Shiro confirms that he wants to leave Curtis everything. He’s left nothing back on earth that he needs and that’s the most sobering thought of all.

That night he takes his thoughts with him onto the balcony and discovers Keith sitting on the railing, legs dangling over the edge. Shiro is startled out of his moping by the idea that a simple loss of balance could send him tumbling into the ravine below. Keith hears his squawk and turns to look over his shoulder but doesn’t seem too concerned. He swings one leg over and pulls the other one up, knee bent and foot flat on the wide ledge. Shiro breathes a little easier.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” Keith says. 

Shiro rubs the back of his neck. “I think that’s my line.”

“I’m just feeling restless,” he says and turns to look back toward the city stretched before them. “Not used to being cooped up for so long.”

Keith is quiet. Keith is usually quiet, but there’s a vulnerability in his expression that Shiro is unaccustomed to.

Shiro walks to the side of the balcony closest to Keith and leans his arms on the stone surface. “I’m sure Allura will let you take a break from duty if you need it.”

Keith doesn’t reply and after a pause he shakes his head. 

“You’re not a duty, Shiro. I’m here because I want to be.”

His shoulders are slumped, bangs in his face hiding half his expression. Shiro thinks about the night he woke to Keith soothing him from a nightmare. He feels a pang in his chest when he thinks of everyone working so hard to help him. 

“It’s been a really intense couple of weeks. I know this can’t be easy on you. If you need to unwind and sneaking out helps accomplish that, Allura won’t hear anything from me.” 

Keith cracks a smile. “Are you _encouraging_ me to sneak out?”

Shiro rubs his chin. “Is there a curfew I don’t know about?” Keith grins and shakes his head. “Then not exactly sneaking out, is it?”

Keith tilts his head slightly and mouth mouth quirked up in a look that spells mischief. “It is if I take the unannounced ambassador with me.” He lifts a brow in challenge. “Are you up for an experiment? Off the books.”

Shiro grins. 

They meet at the training room. Keith leads him from there down to a hangar that keeps more traditional modes of travel. Keith leads him to a corner and yanks a canvas off of a hoverbike. 

Shiro blinks. “Is that?” Keith nods.

“This one was pretty wrecked when I found it on earth but the team helped me restore it. I figured since you were fine in the car and this isn’t exactly flying, you should be okay.” 

Shiro nods. He thinks faintly of a dream.

Keith climbs on and when he grips the handle bars Shiro notices the black gloves are back. “Hop on,” Keith says.

Shiro skirts around Keith and climbs onto the wide seat. It’s designed to carry an extra passenger but even Shiro realizes he will need to sit closer. He scoots forward until he is fully on the edge of the seat and places his hands on Keith’s shoulders. 

Keith shoots a smile over his shoulder. “You may want to hold on tighter than that during the ride.” Shiro hesitates a moment before sliding his hands down to hold onto Keith’s waist. He keeps his grip loose. 

The hoverbike flares to life beneath them. Keith steers them out of the garage and they exit onto a quiet road flanked by two guards. Keith waves at them as he speeds away and they are off. 

Shiro expects them to head toward the city but Keith takes them the other way to less populated roads. A few buildings dot their path but they seem more like security outposts than residents. 

The bike picks up speed and the wind rushes against Shiro’s face, whipping his hair loose from his ponytail. He closes his eyes for just a moment and then Keith turns so sharply Shiro gasps and his arms circle Keith’s waist.

Keith delights in testing him it seems. He barrels down a hill with enough speed to make Shiro’s heart race. Sometimes he turns so rapidly, Shiro fears they will spin out, but Keith always manages to maintain control. By the time the bike begins to slow, Shiro finds that he is pressed against the other man’s back, close enough to note that Keith is a little too tall to fit under his chin.

Shiro slides off the bike and takes a look around them. They’re high on a hill that overlooks the palace and the city below. The two moons seem unusually close tonight. They loom large in the sky and glow so bright it illuminates the field of flowers surrounding them. 

“It’s the best view of the city,” Keith says.

“I’m grateful to be here in one piece,” Shiro teases.

Keith mocks indignation. “Civilian life has softened you up.”

“I’m not the reckless driver without a helmet.”

“It’s not reckless if you’ve got skills.”

Shiro freezes at that. He goes quiet and turns back to look at the view. He crosses his arms around his waist feeling suddenly chilly.

“Hey,” Keith says softly, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just trying to have a little fun.”

Shiro shakes his head. “That’s not what spooked me, Keith.” He focuses on the castle down below. There are small lights illuminating each spire, blinking in and out like blue fireflies.

Keith approaches Shiro slowly. His hand settles on Shiro’s left shoulder, palm radiating warmth even through the fabric of his light coat. Shiro’s heart is racing so swiftly he feels his pulse in his throat. 

“I dreamt about this,” he admits quietly. “Not this,” he waves at the castle, “but driving a hover bike with someone at my back and I,” he bites his lower lip. “I said those same words.”

Keith is quiet beside him. He squeezes Shiro’s shoulder and then lets go. He sits down on the ground, knees pulled up to his chest and his hands clasped loosely around them. 

“Did you know I was 14 when I first met you?” Keith’s face stays focused on the castle before them. He looks peaceful sitting on the ground except for the way his shoulders hunch a little too much like he’s closing in on himself. 

“Actually, saying we met is a little too kind. More like you chased me down after I stole your car.”

Shiro snorts a laugh. He climbs down onto the ground with Keith and crosses his legs in front of him. 

“I thought I had it all figured out and then I met this hot shot pilot from the Garrison who schooled me.” Keith huffs a laugh. “The first time you took me out on a hover bike you flew us straight off a cliff and I never questioned you again.” Keith looks at him then, eyes soft and luminous in the moonlight. “You were my mentor, Shiro. You taught me half the stuff I know.”

Shiro tries to shove down whatever feeling is twisting inside of him. _Mentor_ , he tells himself. He was Volton’s _leader_ , Allura had said. Shiro feels a small sense of relief that this piece has context, even if it wasn’t the one he expected. 

“Only half?” he says, forcing a smile. 

“Well you know, natural talent,” Keith shrugs one shoulder. He says it with such a straight face Shiro pauses. Keith watches him, waiting for his reaction but his mouth splits into a grin before he can respond. Keith’s shoulders shake with laughter. Even in the two weeks together, Shiro has discovered that Keith’s laughter is still kind of rare and he finds that he likes the sound of it. 

“Tell me more,” Shiro asks. He looks up at the sky and somehow the stars look brighter than he remembers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shiro is standing at a bower covered in red roses. A man in a white suit stands before him and though he can’t see the other man’s face, Shiro recognizes his wedding day. He watches as Curtis’ hand offers a simple gold ring, reaching for him in slow motion.

Shiro wants to say no, that he can’t do this again, but instead he watches as his hand lifts before him and Curtis places the ring.

“Shiro,” a voice says softly. Shiro smells metal and fire. 

The ring slides onto his left finger but the scene is shifting. The flowers burst into flames and Shiro finds himself on a battlefield.

Lance is knocked out cold on the ground. Katie is slumped beside him, eye bleeding from her shattered glasses. He looks around wildly and finds his prosthetic arm is something dark and twisting purple. He lifts it over Katie and Shiro screams when he feels his arm rising above his head.

“Shiro!” a voice screams. He turns in time to face Keith launching himself and knocking him off his feet. Keith’s face snarls above him, two hands grabbing his wrist and slamming his prosthetic hand against the ground. Shiro bucks him off and pins Keith down with his weight. He lifts his blade, aiming for the throat but Keith shoves and pushes him just enough that the edge slowly slices into his cheek instead.

Shiro wakes up with a sob lodged in his throat. He can still see Katie helpless on the ground and he gasps and shudders with the knowledge of his intent. His hands shake so badly he tightens them into a fist. Even now, awake, he does not trust himself.

“No,” Shiro cries, remembering the scar on Keith’s cheek. His body shakes with his sobs.

He hears a huff of breath and then Kosmo’s head is nudging his shoulder. Shiro throws his arms around the wolf’s neck and he sobs into his dark fur. He feels a familiar sense of weightlessness and he cries in distress when he realizes Kosmo has transported him to Keith’s bed. 

“Kosmo, no more snacks,” Keith murmurs sleepily. Kosmo whines.

Shiro feels mortified and he muffles an embarrassed laugh by turning his face into Kosmo’s fur. Keith shifts on the bed and murmurs sleepily. 

“Shiro?” Keith asks, his voice drowsy and soft. 

Shiro tries to stifle a sob and fails. He wipes his face hastily and keeps his back to Keith.

Keith scrambles out of the blanket. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, sounding much more alert. Keith’s hand is on his back, trying to soothe him by running his palm up and down slowly.

Kosmo whines again and Shiro released his hold, careful to keep his back to Keith. “Was it a bad dream?” Keith asks. “You want to tell me about it?” Shiro whimpers and shakes his head. “Okay,” Keith says, continuing to rub his back. Keith sits with him and doesn’t ask questions. His hand rubs circles across Shiro’s back in a slow and steady pace that never falters until Shiro’s crying subsides. 

“Stay here,” Keith says and gets up off the bed. He disappears into the bathroom, his shadow slipping into the dark and when he comes back, he hands Shiro a damp cloth. Shiro wipes his face and feels ten times better. Keith’s hand runs down his back again and Shiro shivers. 

Keith stops and shifts on the bed again. He pulls down the covers and pats the mattress beside him. “Come on,” he says. 

Shiro feels like a child as he climbs into the blankets. Keith pulls the blankets up to his chin to tuck him in. Kosmo promptly sits on his feet, a warm weight pinning him down. Keith shifts onto his side, knees bent so that one of them just brushes against Shiro’s leg. He keeps his hands pillowed beneath his head. 

Shiro can hear his own breathing in the silence. His breath still hitches but he has mostly calmed down. When he feels like he can talk again he wets his lips and sighs audibly. 

“I dreamt about my wedding,” he says. 

He hears Keith suck in a breath. 

“I received word yesterday that the divorce went through. Expedited, since I was off-world.”

“I’m sorry,” Keith says.

Shiro’s chest rumbles with a laugh. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m. . . a mess, quite frankly. I don’t think Curtis really knew what he was signing up for. And when I started having the dreams, it was too confusing. Curtis didn’t know how to handle it and felt that removing himself from the picture was the kindest thing to do.”

“Do you… still love him?” Keith asks. 

“I do,” Shiro admits. “And I’m only sorry that getting caught up in this has hurt him.”

Shiro shifts the best he can to turn onto his side. His hand reaches for Keith’s face, fingers tracing the scar on his cheek. 

“But I hurt you too, didn’t I?”

Keith closes his eyes and lips part with a startled gasp. Shiro can feel the tensing in Keith’s jaw. 

“I dreamt about a battlefield where I hurt you. Where I,” Shiro shudders again. “Where I almost,”he pauses, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Lance and Katie,” his voice breaks. 

Keith says nothing but Shiro can hear the hitch in his breath and feel the tears slipping down his cheeks. Shiro pulls Keith closer to him, his arms winding around his waist and tucks Keith’s head under his chin. “I’m so sorry, Keith.”

Keith’s arm slides around him and he buries his face in Shiro’s chest while his body shakes with the force of his crying.

Shiro thinks about Hunk’s enthusiasm the first night he arrived, about Katie going nights without sleep to pour hours into her research, about Allura’s quiet looks when she thinks Shiro isn’t looking. He thinks about Lance preening when he teaches Shiro something new and Keith... 

Another tear slides down Shiro’s cheek. 

Shiro doesn’t know how he’ll ever make it right, but for the first time in many years he feels like he’s right where he’s supposed to be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the morning Shiro wakes up on his side, knees bent around the slumbering wolf curled up against his torso. Keith is spooned against his back, arm thrown over his waist and the slow, steady breathing of sleep ruffling his hair.

Shiro knows he should slip away before Keith wakes but he tells himself just a little longer. Just a little longer to enjoy Kosmo’s warmth and the perfect fit of Keith’s sleep warm body with his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katie agrees to meet him privately. He visits her room, knocking on the door and when he enters he tries not to step on anything scattered on the floor. She wears such large glasses, he realizes. He searches her face and her honey brown eyes meet his gaze. 

“It’s real,” she says. She slips her frames off her face and closes her eyes.

Shiro can make out the scar just above her left eye. It’s a slim pale thing but it’s there when he looks for it. 

Shiro feels a wave of revulsion and it takes everything in him not to flee.

“I’m so sorry, Katie.” He’s afraid to touch her so he keeps his hands tucked tight against his chest.

“It’s Pidge,” she says. She puts her glasses back on and fixes him with a stern look. “Katie was the kid sister of your best friend in high school. The one you knew before well, all of this,” she waves at the ceiling. “You used to call me Pidge,” she says. And then she’s quiet and crosses her arms over her chest. “I get that you can’t remember and I suppose it’s better than being forgotten entirely,” she mutters.

“I’m sorry Pidge,” Shiro interrupts her. “Thank you, for telling me. I can’t imagine how frustrating it has been to walk on eggshells all this time. And I don’t even know where to start making up for all the hardship I’ve caused.” 

Anxious laughter bubbles out of her. She crosses the room and pulls him into a hug. 

“Don’t worry Shiro, if this crazy experiment works you’re definitely gonna be rich and famous again and I’ll be sure to test how sorry you feel.”

Shiro rest a hand gently on her back. “Will I be making generous donations to your lab?”

“Our number one benefactor,” PIdge replies.

They both erupt into giggles.

Pidge maintains the hug, even as they settle into silence. She digs her face into Shiro’s stomach and gives him an extra tight squeeze before letting him go. 

“Alright,” her voice takes on an edge. “Back to business. She leads him by the hand and sits him down on her bed. She climbs on and sits cross-legged next to him, pulling up her laptop. 

“We need to talk about the one thing Allura seems to have overlooked.” 

Shiro frowns. He can’t quite follow. 

“Your dreams,” Pidge answers. “These aren’t just dreams they’re repressed memories. If the memory loss is related to the curse then your body discovered a loophole. It seems so obvious now but we got caught up in tangible measurements.” 

Pidge starts muttering a string of sentences that Shiro can only half follow but by the end she realizes she lost him and sighs. 

“Do you trust me, Shiro?” she asks.

Shiro nods. “Of course.” Pidge shoves a tablet at him. 

“I need you to keep a dream journal. Every morning after you wake up, record everything you can remember. If it’s anything about Voltron, we can tell you which pieces are real. This might help us determine how accurate the dreams are. How much is fact versus fiction.”

“Would wearing the sensors at night help?” he asks. 

Pidge shakes her head. “Not at this stage, not yet. Sleep studies are complicated and not really my speciality. We don’t have a sure fire way to induce a repressed memory nor guarantee an acceptable level of accuracy. I’m not even sure if the dream journal will provide us a lead.”

Shiro looks down at the dream journal. He starts to fill in his first entry with the side notes on the battle Pidge provided. Pidge is busy working on her computer, chewing her bottom lip at whatever is on her screen.

“Pidge, can I ask you something?” 

She glances up and looks at him expectantly. 

“How does it look?” he asks. “I know it’s only been a few weeks and that we’ve made great progress.” He taps his thumb against his leg. “But this current arrangement is unsustainable.”

Pidge goes back to typing. “We know. Hunk is here under the guise of organizing the gala. He has to return to his duties once the gala is over. Lance is here with the understanding that he is helping you transition into your new role. They’re working on a new appointment for him but that might take him away from the city.”

“Pidge,” Shiro interrupts. He sets the datapad on her bed and turns to face her. “Be straight with me. How are we doing?”

She deflates with a sigh and hangs her head. 

“There’s a pretty serious debate about that. And a lot of it has to do with internal disagreements over what to do about you.”

“Explain,” Shiro says. He waits patiently as Pidge stares at her screen and then slowly pushes her laptop aside.

“Allura thinks the curse acts as a virus. Her aim is to find a cure, a way to treat the illness. But Shiro, biologically we both know that a virus can’t be cured. It has to run its course and the best we can do is to ease the symptoms.”  
“And you don’t agree?”

Pidge crosses her arms and pinches her bottom lip between her thumb and index finger. “I’m not sure treating the curse is the right approach. It’s difficult to research curses because they’re not scientific in any sense of our understanding, but I went back to old stories, fairy tales, if you can believe it, and the methods are always consistent.”

Shiro snorts, “A kiss of true love?”

“Don’t be daft,” Pidge shoots back. “That’s silly commercial tripe. But the old stories, the ones carried on through oral tradition always boil down to the same method. They remove the source of the curse.”  
“Why have I never heard these stories?” Shiro asks. 

“Because the original stories are weird,” Pidge shrugs. “Everyone thinks Snow White woke to a true love kiss, but that’s cuz in the original the prince found her and decided he wanted to keep her corpse. The men dropped her casket en route to his kingdom and knocked the poisoned apple out of her mouth.” 

“Oh…” Shiro’s eyes go round. “I can see why they changed that.”

“Don’t even get me started on Sleeping Beauty.”

Shiro smiles. He grabs the datapad and stands up. “I’m gonna trust you on that one.” He lifts the datapad and nods at her. “Thanks, Pidge. For everything.”

She looks away, hiding an embarrassed smile. “Number one benefactor,” she reminds him with a grin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days before the gala Shiro manages to pilot for three hours in the simulator. He has a mild headache when he’s done but Allura considers it a success. They hug and congratulate each other and then Allura gives him the other news. 

It’s time to prepare for the gala. 

Shiro spends hours with Lance and Coran going over customs, protocols and more importantly, the guest list. Hunk is tied up in the kitchen in full blown party planning and Pidge locks herself up in her lab. 

Keith stays at his side, shadowing him like a quiet understudy. He remembers the details that Lance and Coran throw at them and is there to quietly remind Shiro when he falters. 

After one day of this Shiro feels like it’s too much and without another word Keith drags him down to the hangar and they’re taking off again into the early night. 

Keith drives him to a different spot this time. A different field where the flowers grow tall enough to cover his feet. They’re covered in clusters of five petaled flowers that look blue under the moonlight. 

Scorpion grass, Keith calls it. He settles onto the ground and leans back with his head pillowed on his palms. Shiro joins him and when he looks over it almost looks like there are flowers in Keith’s hair. 

“What will you do when this is over?” Shiro asks.

“When what is over?” Keith replies.

Shiro pauses and debates which one to ask. “The gala,” he settles on, shooting Keith a quick glance.

Keith’s mouth twists up in a smile. “Why? Trying to get rid of me?” he teases.

Shiro snorts. He’s quiet and tries to find patterns he recognizes in the stars. “Pidge told me that some of you have to leave. It made me realize how difficult this must be.”

“Don’t,” Keith warns. He turns onto his side, head propped up on one arm. “I’m here because I want to be. And I’ll stay for as long as it takes.”

“What if,” Shiro begins. He swallows heavily. “What if we never find a cure?”

Keith hums softly. He looks absently at the flowers beside him, fingers brushing against the petals. “It wouldn’t be the worst fate.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shiro dreams about his wedding again. Only this time he notices the red lapel of the groom’s coat and the pale blue flowers pinned to his shoulder. A gloved hand slides a silver ring with a purple stone onto his ring finger.

Shiro’s eyes fly open. He sits up, scrambling to find the datapad on his bed and writes down the entire scene. He rubs a hand through his hair in frustration. None of this fits. Everything is off or backwards or contradictory to what he had started to believe was true. Shiro rummages through his dresser and pulls out the ring. He checks the hour and sends Pidge a quick message before heading out.

It’s late enough in the night that none of the guards comment on his sleep attire. Shiro knocks gently on Pidge’s door and it slides open after the first knock. Pidge’s hair is a small nest framing her pale face. She holds a drink in her hand that Shiro suspects is a stimulant.

“Inside,” she says and climbs onto her untidy bed. Shiro sets down the datapad and pulls the ring out of his pocket. He sets it down on the mattress between them.

“The first time I realized something was wrong was when I dreamt I proposed to someone with this ring. I’ve had it for as long as I can remember but I never had a reason to pay attention to it until that night.”

Pidge picks up the metal and turns it in the light. 

“I dreamt about it just now but this time I was getting married to a man in a white and red jacket and he placed this on my finger. And though I have no reason to believe that any of my dreams are accurate, I wouldn’t wear this as my wedding ring if I used it to propose to someone else.”

Pidge frowns at the small stone in the center. Her unblinking gaze unnerves him. 

“I can tell you one thing for certain.” Her eyes bore into him over the tops of her glasses. “Shiro, this _is_ your old engagement ring, but the stone was never purple.”

“You saw my engagement ring?” Shiro asks. His heart starts pounding at the implications. 

“Of course Shiro, we all did. You asked us to keep your secret and,” Pidge averts her face holding up the ring. “And we did.”

“Then you know. . . “ Shiro begins.

“Anyways,” Pidge expression grows dark. “It makes sense that you carried this onto the battlefield. If Haggar’s magic touched it, if this is what I think it is, then we just found a piece of the curse.”

“Could this be the source?” Shiro asks. His hands tremble at the thought. Could this thing he carried for so long be the reason why they had all suffered so long? And if his dreams had called to it, what did that mean?

Pidge shakes her head and begins to pinch the ring between two fingers. She finds an old wrapper off the floor and crinkles the material to roll it up with the ring inside. 

“I really don’t know Shiro. This is Altean magic and I’ll need Allura’s help analyzing it. But she won’t be available until after this dumb party.”

Pidge nods toward the door. “Get some rest and keep writing in the journal. I’m gonna put this somewhere it can’t make my skin crawl.”

Shiro feels unsettled but he knows Pidge won’t give him more than that. Dejected, Shiro walks back to his room. He paces inside, trying to piece together his dreams but in his exhaustion they all start to blur together. Shiro tries to sleep but he tosses and turns and though he knows that he shouldn’t he finds himself knocking on Keith’s door. 

Keith’s door opens and he stands in the doorway, rubbing his eye. “Shiro? Everything okay?” 

“Can’t sleep,” he shrugs. Keith eyes look heavy and in the dark light the circles under his eyes are more pronounced. “Sorry. I don’t know why I thought bothering you was a good idea.”

Keith grabs his wrist and tugs him inside. “Don’t be ridiculous. Come inside.” 

Shiro climbs into Keith’s bed reluctantly and just like the last time, Keith pulls the blankets up to his chin and tells Kosmo to sit on him. The wolf’s weight shifts over Shiro’s legs pinning him down. Keith curls up on his side and tucks his hands under his head.

“Weighted blanket,” Keith says sleepily. “Kosmo helps me sleep too.”

Shiro hums and focuses on slowly releasing the tension from his body. His muscles ache at the sudden lack of resistance and he lets himself go slowly until he feels loose-limbed and warm.

“Thanks,” he says softly, “I’ll request one tomorrow.”

Keith murmurs an acknowledgement and grows quiet. Shiro stares at the ceiling and listens to Keith’s breathing even out. 

Shiro wants to tell Keith about his dream and the ring. If Shiro and Keith were as close as he thinks they were then Keith knows the identify of his fiance. 

They all do, Shiro realizes and have kept it from him. To protect him, or maybe the other party. Shiro’s chest feels tight when he thinks of them all at his wedding, watching him marry another man while leaving his first love behind. And if he recovers his memories and discovers their identify, what then? Does he reach out and try to make amends? Does he put their story to rest and try to salvage his failing marriage. Or will both of them choose to move on?

Shiro feels anxiety bubbling up inside of him. He focuses on breathing slowly, trying to match his pace to Keith’s. He turns his head and observes the dark hair spilling over a pale cheek and Keith’s unguarded expression as he sleeps.

 _Would all of us moving on be so bad_ , he thinks.


End file.
